


Purified in Fire

by arcticnewt



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Cap!TWS AU, F/M, Feels, M/M, Newt is the Winter Soldier, there's descriptions of torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-15 00:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2209596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcticnewt/pseuds/arcticnewt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winter Soldier AU, set in TDC. </p><p>Newt is cured of the Flare- but of course, nothing comes without a price.</p><p>WICKED needs to finish the trials.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So this was inspired by an ask I sent to Sam (queerminho) a loong time ago, and I'm getting it up finally. 
> 
> MUCH THANKS TO ALICE, ADELINE, KARI, SAM AND BIANCA- my lovely, beautiful supporters as I whined about this plot bunny for months.
> 
> Posted from my iPod so I am sorry for typos, I'll fix them soon!

“We’re not going to kill you, Subject A5- we’re going to burn you.”

//

Newt was strapped to a steel table with leather restraints tied tightly enough to cut into his skin. His arms and legs were spread by the restraints- another strip of leather restricting his throat and one around his waist. 

He surveyed his surroundings, sluggishly looking around around for anything, any exit- but was instead met with the vision of masked people in blindingly white clothes looking down at him with impassive looks in their eyes and familiar logos on their shirts. 

Ah, WICKED.

What did they have in store for him now?

The last thing he remembered was begging, pleading for death- which Thomas had finally granted- and WICKED brought him back? 

“What are you gonna shuckin’ do to me, huh?” Newt coughed out defiantly, feeling the dryness of his throat in every word. “What else can ya’ do to me, I’m already fuckin’ insane!” He’d shout with an unstable laugh, watching with satisfaction as the people surrounding him looked at each other with fearful gazes- the whitecoats, his crazed mind decided to call them. 

“I’m a crank!” He screamed hoarsely, thrashing against the restraints furiously. “I have the shuckin’ Flare!”

“Well- first and foremost- we intend to cure you.” 

The last thing Newt saw before a haze of sleepiness suddenly washed over him was a giant needle. 

//

When Newt came to his senses, his mind felt clearer than he could recall it ever being and his body felt cleaner than ever before- did that mean he was cured? That the Flare was gone? 

He struggled to get himself into an upright position before realizing that he was still strapped onto something. He looked around, vaguely wondering if he was still in the same room as before; white walls, no doors, the smell of alcohol in the air- it seemed like the same room, he concluded with a sigh. 

“Commencing Flare scans on Subject A5.” A cool, feminine voice announced into the white room from a source that Newt couldn’t locate. A red beam of light ran down his body as he struggled against the restraints, somewhat nervous about the result of the scan- but mostly terrified of what would happen next. “All scans negative. Subject A5 is free of the Flare.” 

"Good," Another voice responded- male this time and a panel in the wall slid open, allowing a manl to enter the room. He donned a white coat similar to those of the others, but he looked much younger- almost his age.

He looked familiar to Newt- but at the same time, he was sure he had never encountered this man before. 

“Hello, Newt.” Well he seemed friendly enough, for now. "How are you feeling?" 

Newt just stared blankly in response, not really sure what to say to this man.

"Newt?"

"I- I'm fine," he would mumbled out, wincing at the raspy tone of his voice. 

"You sound like you could use some water." The man noted, producing a cup of water from somewhere- which Newt gulped down greedily. 

"I hope you enjoy these simple pleasures- you won't remember them."

What- what was that supposed to mean?

"Good night, Subject A5.” 

When Newt saw the needle being stuck into his arm, it was too late- a drowsy haze had already started to wash over him.

//

When Newt opened his eyes again, he found himself face to face with a giant mirror. 

He took the chance to survey his body's condition, and noted with a tiny bit of satisfaction that WICKED had cleaned him up and dressed him in cleaner clothes. His usually dirty blonde hair was gleaming platinum, he observed with surprise- he couldn't recall a moment when his hair, or the rest of him, as a matter of fact, had ever been completely clean. 

He moved closer to the mirror and then froze.

His limp was healed.

"Hello again, Newt." 

Newt looked away from his reflection to be met with the sight of the same man as before. Now that he was in a better state of mind, he was able to study the man properly. 

He looked young, with platinum blonde hair that almost matched the shade of Newt’s. 

“WICKED has taken the liberty of fixing you up,” the man said coolly and brushed a lock of blonde hair away from Newt’s face almost affectionately. “But before anything else, I’d like to explain what’s going to happen. Are you going to listen?”

The teenager gave him a neutral shrug. "Not like I have a bloody choice," he grumbled. 

“I’m Lysander, one of WICKED’s chemists. I was the one who cooked up the handy little cure we tested on you.” Lysander’s speech was clipped and straight to the point. “Anyways- since the cure worked, we’ll move on to phase 2 of this procedure. Shortly after this, you will be sedated- and a variety of unpleasant things will happen to you. The good news is that you won’t remember most of it.”

“Can I take a rain check on these unpleasant things?” Newt asked in a bout of courage. He was in top condition, he felt a little entitled to be sassy. 

“I was scared you’d say that.” Lysander sighed, a fleeting expression of genuine sadness appearing on his face. “They’re still going to happen, I regret to inform you. But I’ll give you a choice. You can consent to them, and everything will proceed smoothly. I will personally oversee all procedures to make sure they go well.”

Newt blinked and his blue eyes flicked up to Lysander’s face. “What happens if I don’t?” He asked carefully, as if he was actually considering it. 

Honestly, he was considering it because the sooner he got back to Minho and the rest, the better. 

“Then those unpleasant things still happen,” Lysander responded, his smiled fading to a small frown. “It will just inconvenience us a little more.”

“Do I get to go back to Minho and the?” Newt inquired as he mirrored Lysander’s small frown with a tilt of his head. 

An odd look came over Lysander’s face as the teenager stared at him, and that was all the answer Newt needed. 

“Then I’m going to give ya slintheads hell before I willingly go down!” 

“I was afraid you would say that.” Lysander sighed as two guards entered the room, took Newt by the arms and dragged him out of the room snarling and swearing. 

// 

Newt was never overly fond of fire, or heat, or anything of that sort- especially after the Scorch. 

But now? 

He absolutely despised it, he concluded as he wiggled his shackled wrist. 

Newt was locked in what seemed to be a metal room. His arms were locked into place by cuffs, and his legs were strapped into place with metal loops. Heat radiated from every surface present, even the metal bench on which he sat.

He shifted uncomfortably, causing a drop of sweat to trickle down his temple and onto the bench- and it fizzled into steam, then into nothing. It was followed by another drop of sweat- was it getting hotter?- and another, both fizzing and evaporating faster than the last. 

A wave of heat hit Newt, causing him to jerk violently, his hisses of pain echoing in the box as his skin made contact with the burning hot bindings. 

His noises never stopped as it got hotter and hotter, more intense waves of heat coming faster and faster, hotter than hotter. 

//

Who was screaming? Newt wondered, before realizing that the agonized yell was being ripped from his own throat as he thrashed against the shackles, burning and cutting into his wrists with the white hot metal.


	2. Prologue 2: Paradise

Thomas wasn’t really sure what he was expecting when he arrived in Paradise, but the sight that met his eyes was a silent, gleaming city.

It was littered with buildings- the largest of which possessing giant silver letters spelling WICKED across its' top floor, he noted with irritation. Couldn't they just get away from everything having to do with that place? 

There were some people, about five or six families milling about, and a few homes that Thomas assumed they inhabited.

There was a separate residential area with more than enough houses for all of the Gladers, Group B girls and immunes.

“Go pick one out,” Minho muttered from Thomas’ right. He looked every bit as battered and exhausted as Thomas felt, but his eyes were ever alert, surveying the area for threats. “I wanna get some shuckin’ sleep, so go pick a house.”

"Why don't you choose one first, shank?" Thomas snarked, raising an eyebrow. "Then I'll get the one next to ya or somethin."

"I said pick a house, Thomas."

//

"There are like fifteen other houses, Minho." Thomas found himself saying tiredly a few weeks later, a bite of bitterness in his words.

He can barely stand the sight of Minho, if he's being honest.

He despises how Minho's so nice. He hates how Minho jokes with him in the daylight and holds him down during nightmares. He hates how Minho's been so understanding of everything.

He hates how Minho wouldn't be that way if he knew about Newt.

So he tells him to leave.

"Get your own shuck house."

"I'll take the shuckin couch if I have ta." Minho had responded resolutely. "Please,Tommy, please don’t make me leave.”

Thomas had frozen and his fists had clenched. A shot of ice sped through his veins, and he cracked his knuckles almost threateningly. "Don't worry about me."

"It's not just about your shuckin' comfort," Is Minho's immediate response. He's pleading now, and Thomas can hear the quiver in his voice. "I don't got what it takes to be alone right now,"

"I need to be alone." It sounds like a lie to his own ears, but there is nothing else Thomas can say.

They haven’t spoken since.

//

Both running water and electricity are also present, and it takes Thomas some time to get used to having such luxuries. While he does remember how Wi-Fi and laptops work, it doesn’t necessarily mean it is easy for him to adjust to having them at his disposal.

He has a cellphone, and two weeks after everyone figures out to operate them, there are no names in his phonebook.

//

He has not been outside his house aside from the walks he takes in the dead of the night.

Sometimes he sees Minho, but Minho does not see him.

Minho is always punching trees and kicking walls at these times, cursing at anything and everything, and every night it ends the same, with the boy crumbling to the ground and sobbing angrily.

Thomas wishes he could comfort Minho, but there is no comfort left in him to give- there is only pain, and regret- and then there is nothing. 

//

"I want to talk to ya, slinthead. So are you gonna let me shucking in or what?"

It is the monthly commemoration of the survivors' arrival in Paradise, and Thomas is relieved when the voice coming from outside his door does not resemble Minho's in the slightest.

He gets up from bed with a groan, rolling his shoulders as he makes his way to the door. "I'm coming," he calls ahead, his voice raspy with sleep and lack of use.

"Well hurry up, slinthead-"

The speaker is cut off as Thomas pulls the door open and comes face to face with a disgruntled Gally.

Thomas stands there for a moment, blankly staring at the other. He is not surprised, nor is the anger he associates with the other flooding his bones- there is nothing.

And for that he is thankful.

"Well, shuckface?" Gally asks harshly, but there is no venom in his voice. "Are ya' gonna let me in?"

Thomas considers it, and decides to step out of the doorway to let Gally in, the older boy closing the door behind him.

//

"Aris said I should talk to ya." Gally says once they are seated on the floor of Thomas' room. He gives Thomas a dry look that he cannot comprehend. "And he says ya should talk ta Minho- and I agree-"

"Aris should slim it and mind his own business," Thomas retorts dully. "Tell him and Minho ta go shuck themselves-"

"Been there, done that," Gally quips dryly with an eyebrow raise.

"Then tell them to go shuck each other," Thomas retorts, a sliver of annoyance making its way into his blank tone, because _seriously, can't Minho just shucking quit it_ and it shouldn't be surprising that it is Gally that manages to get a rise out of him after months and months of nothing. "In fact, why don't you go join them?"

The next emotion that hits Thomas is surprise when Gally snickers wistfully. "I see why Newt liked ya, shuck."

//

_New contact added: Gally_

//

"Minho told me to tell ya that he'd prefer not to shuck Aris, but if that's what it takes to get ya out of this damn house then he'd do it." Gally says resolutely the next time Thomas finds him on his doorstep, and isn’t it ironically appropriate that Gally is the one who manages to coax a laugh from him after so long?

"It's been months, shank! Get your klunk together! Do ya think you're the only one who's going through something? Huh?" Then Gally's in his face and shoving him against the wall. "You're supposed to be a leader, shank."

_And Newt's supposed to be alive, but that he isn't, is he?_

The horrified expression on Gally's face tells Thomas that he had said that out loud. 

//

Several months have passed since Thomas and the others arrived in the place WICKED called Paradise, and he has come to conclude that it is anything but.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, so this is another intro of sorts, I felt like I needed to set Paradise up before delving into the actual plot, and show Thomas' relationships with the other characters? And I had to put some things into place before getting in too deep... Yeah.  
> .


End file.
